


American Idiots

by Elegant_Geek



Category: American Idiot - Green Day/Armstrong
Genre: American Idiot - Freeform, Apocalypse, End of the World, Green Day - Freeform, Green Day References, Punk, Russian Roulette
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24435805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elegant_Geek/pseuds/Elegant_Geek
Summary: Johnny Will and Tunny in a weird apocalyptic scenario. Featuring burnt pizzas, raided houses, heroin or something, and of course, partying. Enjoy this (INCOMPLETE) crackhead storytime 11k word document I churned out last summer.
Kudos: 3





	1. Shitty Pizza

Another meaningless day comes and goes in Suburbia, USA. No one is around the house. The oven has been going off for about 7 minutes now.

“Shit, the pizza!” Tunny is preoccupied with something else upstairs and has lost track of time. He rushes down the stairs as fast as he can. He has a cane in his left hand so he doesn’t fall and break his neck. Tunny sprints to the oven and throws on mitts. He glares at Johnny’s closed door. Sure enough, the pizza is burnt. Burnt to the point where it’s possibly inedible. Brilliant. The stench spreads across the room and throughout the house as it is thrown on the stovetop. Tunny looks at the pizza sadly wondering if it’ll be any good and he coughs as the strong odor fills his lungs. 

“What’s that smell?! I thought you were making pizza!” Johnny comes out of his room slightly amused. 

“I did,” Tunny says softly and embarrassed. 

“Dude, how hard is it to fuck up a pizza?” Johnny laughs as he walks over to the stovetop to investigate. 

“It’s fine” Tunny murmurs. Johnny stares at it in horror while burying his nose in his shirt. 

“It doesn’t LOOK fine.” 

“Well you make it then.” Tunny snaps. Johnny turns to head back into his dark abyss. 

“I’m not sayin’ I won’t eat it,” he says disgruntled. His stomach growls in protest as he enters his dark room again. Tunny opens the back door to let the house air out. The front door opens quietly. Will enters, smelling almost as bad as the pizza. He flings his shoes down the hallway. One shoe strikes the wall and leaves a mark. Tunny turns around to see Will drenched in sweat picking gravel off of his bleeding elbow. His skateboard falls to the floor with a bang. 

“I ate shit.” A weary smile creeps across his face as he staggers into the kitchen. Will’s eyes are hidden by his oversized helmet and wild curly hair. Tunny doesn’t reply at first. He’s a bit agitated at the moment. He notices bright red blood running down Will’s forearm. Will moves to the sink to rinse his wound. 

“Sss! Ahh, yeah that’s a motherfucker.” He laughs to hide his pain. 

“How’d you do that?” Tunny asks in hope of hearing an entertaining story. Will gives Tunny an angry look which throws him off for a second. 

“A stupid pebble.” Will begins drying his wound with a paper towel. “It’s like the worst thing ever.” His arm has cleared up, but blood begins to rise up in the wound again. 

“I’ve got gauze if you want.” Tunny tries to be helpful. “In the bathroom.” Will’s face lights up and he sprints upstairs taking two at a time. Meanwhile, Tunny prods at the pizza with a finger disappointedly. Johnny slowly comes out of his room again hoping the pizza has cooled off some. He looks like someone has just died. Tunny stares at him in concern as he passes through the kitchen into the living room. Will comes back down all wrapped up. He is still wearing his helmet which reads “IDIOT” on both sides. Johnny smiles silently as he comes into view. 

“Why do you wear that thing, Will?” Will spins around unceremoniously to find Johnny spread out over the black loveseat. 

“To… protect my head?” He replies like a fifth grader hoping to get the answer right in class. Johnny sighs in exasperation. 

“There’s nothing in there to protect.” A sudden spitting noise comes from the kitchen followed by violent coughing. Tunny slams his open bottle of water down hard sending even more water everywhere. Will and Johnny glance at him in curiosity. Tunny quickly turns his back to them both, stifling his laughter as he cleans up his mess. Will looks at him indignantly as Johnny beams triumphantly at his roast’s reception. Will moves in towards Tunny dropping his helmet on the counter. 

“Oh, shut the fuck up, you’re not allowed to laugh.” Will punches Tunny’s muscular arm hard. Tunny tries and fails to hide his massive grin as he starts to divide the burnt pizza into slices. Will rolls his head back in Johnny’s direction. “Wasn’t even that funny.” He looks down at the disaster in front of him. “Dude, that is cooked.” Tunny glares at him and snatches up a slice. He takes a large bite. 

“It’s fine.” Will skeptically eyes the deceptively yellow cheese underneath the burnt surface. He hesitantly takes a bite into his slice. Johnny enters the kitchen now to eat too. 

“Jesus, it’s literally black!” Johnny fails to notice Will’s fluctuating expressions as he cycles through the variety of flavors he is experiencing. 

“It’s fine!” Tunny repeats. Johnny scoops up a piece slowly trying to take in its smell before eating it. 

“If I die, it’s your fault.” He jokes waving his slice at Tunny. He gets a sudden pang in his chest and glances up at Tunny uncomfortably to catch his reaction. He remains as stoic as ever. “Sorry,” Johnny says quickly. The cheese stretches and breaks as he takes a bite. 

“Ya know, this isn’t half bad.” Will says trying to swallow his mouthful without gagging. He reaches for a second slice. 

“Glad you like it Will” Tunny replies watching him dully. Will checks his phone and leaves the room with his second slice of burnt pizza. 

“Welp, I’m out, bitches!” Will hops down the hall trying to get his shoes on. 

“Fucking shower! You stink!” Tunny yells after him. Will throws the front door open wide as he hollers, “You’re not my mom!” and he is gone. Johnny places his pizza down and looks at Tunny confused with tired eyes. 

“Where’s he off to?” Tunny shakes his head equally stumped. Will doesn’t have many friends. Johnny shuffles towards his room neglecting his pizza slice sitting on the counter. Tunny watches him leave knowing full well his pizza is shit.  
The light in Johnny’s room is dim. It’s been a rough day for him. He sits on his bed with his head bowed. He looks glumly at his acoustic guitar which is leaning against his closet. It is missing a few strings and the body appears to be kicked in. The shattered guitar pleads to be repaired, and Johnny longs for the relief that it brings. It physically hurts him to see his baby this way. He gently places the guitar in its dark coffin and returns to his original pose on the bed feeling weak. He throws himself down on his back and considers the possibility of just lying there forever watching his ribs slowly becoming more visible. There’s no food. Tunny just had to go and ruin everything. God. Johnny feels the heat come into his face and he clenches his fists. And it was only a pizza too! His stomach growls in anger. Whatever. It’s not worth the energy getting up again anyway. 

Tunny meanwhile is bored out of his mind alone once again. He fidgets mindlessly with his hands before grabbing a pack of cigarettes off the dinner table. As he heads towards the back door, his left leg begins burning and stinging with each step. He mutters under his breath as he slides the door open. It is oddly chilly out for a summer day. Tunny begins shivering hard against the glow of the setting sun. He sits in a plastic Adirondack chair and rubs his arms in discomfort. At this point, he’d start running around to warm up. His army brothers used to gawk in awe as he sprinted past them kicking up dust. Tunny was fast. Nothing could stop him; he had such energy and joy when he ran. But now… He kicks his cane over angrily. These memories of his past life sting worse than the current sensations in his leg. Tunny lights his cigarette coughing quietly after he inhales. His eyes go in and out of focus staring at the stringy unkempt grass in front of him. Within the grass, there is a small brown brick about 20 feet away. No, it’s more like a tile than a brick. But they don’t have tiles, they barely have a backyard. Christ, this place is disgusting… Tunny looks out again. 

What is that? It still looks like a tile. God Dammit… Tunny’s curiosity gets the better of him. He groans as he pushes himself up. As he begins limping across the yard he immediately wishes for his cane back by the chair. As he gets closer, he sees that the tile is not a tile. It’s a book, like a journal of some sort. Tunny runs a hand over the blank smooth surface of its cover and turns it over. Its walnut color has darkened with age. No name? He instinctively spins around to find he is alone. Darkness begins to sink in muting the book’s rich color. Tunny is beyond fascinated by his discovery. This mystery journal is secured neatly by a single worn button clasp which yearns to be undone. Tunny heads back to his chair and plops down. The outdoor light shining over him from behind has set the scene. Tunny quietly undoes the clasp to reveal the glow of the first white page. Blank. The second has been torn out. He feels his chest rising and falling more visibly now. He turns another page. The words have been scribbled down in such haste and energy that the handwriting is barely legible.

January 3rd 

"Hey, Braaaaaad. Thanks for stopping by today. Do you know your enemy? Well, it’s always been me, bitch. You’re so bold, yet so dumb. You think you know me better than I know me and I’m sick of it. I see right through you now and I see what you do. I hope you die young. Before you do, take your nasty shit outta my room."

Tunny is terrified with what he had just done. And yet, he feels his hand sweeping over the book slowly revealing another page. And then another. He thumbs through the first month of the journal. He freezes on his name. “Tunny and the usual suspects, again…” He reads the rest deliberately.  
“And blah… fucking… blah.” Tunny runs a finger over the closing words. He looks up suddenly half expecting to see Johnny out in the yard watching him. He’s not. Tunny turns another page. 

The ceiling fan has been whirring nonstop for some time. Johnny makes popping and clicking noises with his mouth resigning himself to the monotony. He glances over at his dimly lit clock on the wall. It’s finally like… eight. Eight something. What a shitty day it’s been. Johnny can’t shake the image of his broken guitar. The one remedy for his rage was gone simply because he had lost control yet again. He strikes his radio with his fist. “Shoot to Thrill” by AC/DC comes on and he can’t resist smiling. This song is just so good. He sits up and starts throwing his head around. The music surges through his entire body. As the instrumental sneaks up on him, he sways in ecstasy taking in every single note. “Yeah!” The drums guide him into a nostalgic vision of walking beneath the beautiful city lights. Man, does he miss it all. The wonder and excitement of the night life. 

“Psssst. Boy.” A soft voice hisses in Johnny’s ear. He is still in bliss and does not fully process it. “Hey,” This time the voice hums low over the music. Johnny freezes in fear. He knows that voice. “It’s been some time, yeah?” Johnny feels hot breath against his neck. He pulls his shoulders in uncomfortably tight. And then, he feels hands. Bony fingers begin digging painfully into his shoulders. “Did ya miss me?” The voice rasps. 

“I’m clean. I’m clean.” Johnny can’t look. The image of the demon terrifies him. His voice wavers. “Fuck off, I’m clean.” Johnny feels his throat becoming tight. St. Jimmy cracks a jagged smile as he watches Johnny open his eyes wide and gasp for breath. 

“You don’t seem to remember how this works.” St. Jimmy tilts his head maliciously sideways and his black eyes shine dangerously. “So… when you gonna make somethin’ of yourself?” the demon taunts. Johnny feels the crushing fingers release from his shoulders. 

“I don’t know.” 

St. Jimmy breathes in lightly. “I haven’t missed much. What’s it been now? Three months?” Johnny gives in to the silence. St. Jimmy watches Johnny squirm uncomfortably with a sympathetic expression. 

“Oh, don’t be like that. We used to have so much fun together.” He starts rummaging around under Johnny’s bed. St. Jimmy has unzipped a tiny pocket in Johnny’s old black travelling bag. “Lookie here, you missed one.” He takes Johnny’s shaking hand in his gently. Johnny is still trembling on his bed and his eyes are shut again. “I don’t bite,” St. Jimmy croons, longing to reconnect. His hand moves slowly up Johnny’s left arm. Johnny tugs his arm away in a panic. St. Jimmy wraps around him like a snake shutting down all resistance. He brings a grimy hand up to cover Johnny’s mouth. “We’re fucking doin’ this, and you’re gonna do it right for me.” St. Jimmy whispers.


	2. Smash Bros or Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and that cute girl hang out and St. Jimmy causes some mayhem.

“Wait, you’re from Oakland?!” Will laughs. The girl doesn’t respond. She flicks her short brown hair back over her shoulder. “Holy shit! What are you doing out here?” A faint smile spreads across her pierced lips. She is still silent looking straight ahead at the road. They coast down a narrow neighborhood street passing overturned garbage cans and broken fences. The car reeks of pot and Will lowers his window to escape the stuffiness. His hair bounces in the wind and he turns to grin at his girl. 

“Hey, it not my car,” 

“Oh, damn.” Will feigns a smile. 

“What? You thought I was a stoner?” She asks indignantly narrowing her eyes. Will avoids her piercing gaze. 

“Well, I mean, I thought this was your car!” He turns to look out at the broken glass on the side of the street. 

“Home sweet home.” The car is parked in front of a rundown brick house. The dangerously steep steps lead unevenly to the front door. “Don’t judge,” she murmurs as she fumbles with her keys. The front door squeaks as they enter the house. The carpet is old and worn with a couch to match. A massive flat screen sits inside the living room swallowing the walls. 

“So, what’s up first?” The girl asks. Will is awestruck by the scene. Controllers of all shapes and sizes decorate the room. Cases upon cases cover the remaining pale walls. He runs a finger over a particular stack taking his pick. “The correct answer is Super Smash.” She whispers. Will sighs in elation as he swings his head to look at her. “Gawd, fucking, damn. You’re on.” 

"I broke my guitar today. I’m done. I am. I can’t even say I’ve tried because really, I’ve just given up. I’m such a waste of space. I don’t do anything. Ever. For anyone-"

Tunny can’t read another word. He snaps the book shut and stares right through it lost in thought. Johnny was a nobody and fully aware of it. Month after month he wandered aimlessly in search of something or someone to hold on to. 

“What the fuck? Tunny’s dream turned red, white, and blue.” 

Tunny surges with guilt as he remembers Johnny’s words. He had left Johnny alone in restless agony once he had found his own calling. Johnny was so full of immature and suppressed angst that it hurt to think about. 

“Jesus.” Tunny sits solemnly in the dark by himself. I never even knew. He turns the book over sadly. A testament to years of trying and failing to find a purpose.

Johnny tries to cry out in fear but St. Jimmy is still covering his mouth. 

“Shh, hey. This is your early birthday present.” St. Jimmy stretches and releases a blue elastic band playfully. The snapping noise makes Johnny flinch. “Tie up!” St. Jimmy is ignored still. He hisses in impatience and wraps the band tightly around Johnny’s upper arm. “Are you ready?” St. Jimmy whispers excitedly in Johnny’s ear. The needle stings and pierces deep into Johnny’s exposed vein. St. Jimmy’s hand is controlled and steady. “Here. We. Go.” St. Jimmy slides the needle out and grins at the empty syringe. Johnny opens his eyes groggily. He looks down at his shaking fingers. After a moment, he turns to St. Jimmy in defeat. 

“Why?” St. Jimmy grips his hand in his tightly not smiling. 

“Because I need you.” After a moment, Johnny’s breathing steadies. His fear begins to fade away. He is ruler of this city- no, this country! 

“Am I God?” Johnny asks St. Jimmy eyes wide. This nostalgic rush of excitement feels so damn good. Before St. Jimmy can respond, the world begins to glow. Lights begin flashing from every object in the room as Johnny kicks out wildly in the air. He’s gone crazy. A total beast. No, no! He’s trapped in this space, this room… 

“YOU GOTTA GET OUTTA HERE!” St. Jimmy eggs him on. Johnny rams into his door with his shoulder trying to open it. The knob is turned all the way. “GO!” St. Jimmy screams with delight as Johnny fails to realize he must pull the door. 

“Woah!” St. Jimmy pulls Johnny’s arm back to open the door then shoves him out. 

“BE FREE!” 

Johnny launches himself across the kitchen heading straight for the back door. Right into Tunny. 

“Hey, hold up.” Tunny steps aside watching Johnny sprint past. He’s at a loss for what to do. Johnny races around the yard in circles chasing something Tunny can’t see. He is swearing all the while and enjoying every second of his harmless antics. He pays no mind to Tunny who hurls the journal some feet away before he is caught with it. That was fucking close. 

“Johnny,” He calls out into the yard. Johnny is hunched over scratching his arms uncontrollably now. Tunny has never seen Johnny behaving this way before and is afraid to approach him. He’s on some serious drugs again. And there’s this St. Jimmy something… But hadn’t he gotten this sorted out? He’s been clean for some time now. “Johnny, it’s late. Come inside.” Johnny is laughing hysterically in conversation with himself. 

“No, no, and then HE said, and then I said, and then-” Johnny doubles over wheezing at his nonsense. He raises an arm to flip off the tree in front of him. “Look at this fucker.” Johnny throws his head back into the sky cackling madly. Tunny goes out to grab him. 

“Hey, look at me. You gotta calm down.” Tunny says slowly, gently grabbing onto Johnny’s shoulders. 

“Ahahahhh… Tun-Tun!” 

“Okay, come on.” Tunny says in annoyance. 

“Hey, listen you.” Johnny points into Tunny’s chest with unfocused eyes. “I’M the boss!” He sways confidently in his sedation. 

“No, let’s go.” Tunny starts pulling Johnny through the yard aggressively by the wrist. Johnny does not physically resist as he is yanked inside. At this point, Johnny jumps in front of Tunny trying to size him up. Tunny is at least three inches taller than him. He smirks in amusement. 

“Hold on, wait, wait.” Johnny protests as Tunny starts to turn him around towards his room. “Tunn… uh, Tun-Tun.” He is ignored and guided to his bed. Johnny nearly misses the mattress as he leans back against it. 

“Jesus, what are you on?!” This needs to end. Tunny is tired and cranky. “Stay here.” He demands, chucking a blanket at Johnny. He buries his face in it as Tunny closes the door behind him. St. Jimmy lays on top of Johnny panting loudly like a dog. His face is pressed against the top of the blanket. Johnny feels himself slipping out of consciousness. 

“More, come on, I need some more.” He begs of St. Jimmy. 

“We’re out.” St. Jimmy murmurs. He needs rest even more than Johnny does. Johnny gives into the weight pressing against his limbs and he drifts off into a deep sleep.

“Please?” Will begs. It’s almost 11 PM. The girl rubs her eyes and fidgets with her controller. 

“FINE.” She burps loudly and giggles. The round begins. Will is stupid tired. His character falls off the screen and explodes. “Dude, you’re not even trying anymore.” 

“Yeah I am!” 

She’s not putting up with this crap. She quits the game and Will protests. 

“Nooo! I was doing so well!” He looks at her waiting to resume the game. The girl stares back at him thoughtfully. She opens her mouth before speaking. 

“I think I like you. Just a little bit.” 

“But you know I suck at smash.” She leans in. Will’s heart leaps and he instinctively closes his eyes. She watches him for a moment sitting and waiting patiently. He opens his eyes in confusion. 

“I want you to stay the night.” She whispers. 

“Alright.” Will feels his face getting red. She kisses him softly on the lips brushing his messy hair back. She shuts the TV off leaving the two alone in the darkness.


	3. The Beginning of the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything goes to shit here and Will goes to the store.
> 
> There might be some inconsistencies with the amount of bottled water mentioned in this chapter here so please ignore it :P

“Will. Will.” The girl is shaking him gently despite her urgency. Will slowly opens his eyes looking up at her. “Hey. I need to go back home. Now. My parents want me back there as soon as possible.” Will sits up groggily. 

“Why? Has something happened?” 

“No idea. I need to leave and that’s all I know.” She ignores Will’s concerned gaze as he starts getting dressed and gathering his things. 

“Need help packing?” The girl is pacing and biting into her lip still ignoring him. 

“I need to drop you off.” 

“Yeah, yeah.” Will nods.   
The car clunks noisily through the eerily dark suburbs. They are almost back to Will’s place. 

“You’re coming back though, right?” The girl shakes her head in frustration. 

“I don’t know shit, Will. I’m sorry.” 

“Jesus, lemme know one ya do.” The girl struggles to remove a small crumpled strip of paper tightly wedged in her front pocket. She passes it to Will without a word. 

“Just… something for you. Wrote it months ago.” He unfolds it slowly. 

"Do you know I’m a sucker for you? Do you? I think about you a lot. I’m at a loss for what to say, but I want you to know how I much I care about you. I’m a little bit stuck right now, but just know that if you need anything, I’ll be right here, okay? I’m here for you. It’s okay to feel like shit every now and then. We’ll be okay. You have to believe that."

Will sighs and looks up at her longing to understand. He observes the objects that have been thrown hastily into the back. A flashlight, snacks, bottled water, small paper bags and a backpack. 

“This isn’t the end. We’re gonna get through this, whatever happens, together.” The old car stops and rumbles low under an ominous sky. He hops out of the car and waits in dread as he she dashes around the front of the car. Will holds her tightly to his chest and rubs her back. This can’t be goodbye forever. 

“You’re acting like the world is ending.” Will’s hands shake with the note. 

“It is Will…” He feels her hands sliding away. 

“Call me, alright?” He says trying to find the right words. “Of course.” She runs back around the car to leave. 

“Stay safe, I love you.” Will can’t watch her leave. He clutches her note tightly as it dances in the hot air.

He sneaks into the house quietly and fumbles around starting to make some coffee. It feels like 6AM? 7AM? It doesn’t matter, he’s out of creamer. 

“Jesussss…” Will groans. No coffee, no workee. He considers going back to sleep, but doesn’t feel like waking up at 2pm like he had yesterday. He cracks Johnny’s door open and sees his feet hanging out over his small bed. He avoids the tripwires of Johnny’s belongings scattered across the floor as he enters. 

“Your ass is grass, Will.” The lump on the bed shuffles around. Will grins, snatches the keys off Johnny’s nightstand, and vanishes.

Some yada yada about climate change is on the car radio. Will punches it off trying not to swerve and wreck the car he’s stolen. The car in front of him blows through a stop sign in a hurry and Will thinks nothing of it. The underbelly reeks of pathetic drivers. The traffic light is off. Completely off. No one else is around. Things are starting to get weird. He jumps as a terrifying shriek pierces the air. 

“The fuck?” Will parks between two spots in the shopping center. Several teens are sprinting through the parking lot full throwing full bottles of alcohol on the ground, laughing, and yelling. A black cloud of smoke is rising out of a building down the road. Another yell echoes around. 

“The fuck is up!” 

A bottle whizzes past Will’s head as he exits the car. It explodes in front of him sending froth everywhere. 

“HEY!” He whirls around indignantly. “That’s a FULL BOTTLE!” Was this really the beginning of the end? He runs into the store half expecting it to be robbed empty. Instead, it’s a black Friday scene. People are on the ground battling for large packages of bottled water and general supplies. Management is gone; no one dares suppress the chaos. “Ha!” Will is relieved to find that he’s an early bird to the apocalypse. First, creamer- no no, alcohol! He’s got his priorities straight. Beer, creamer, cigarettes, THEN water. He glances back at the escalating violent battle by the doors. Alright, FINE. Water, then beer, then- time is running out fast. No water left. Next item. Will rushes his cart away from the crowds and ducks down to collect some surprisingly untouched bottles of Jack Daniels. 

As he wheels away, half the cart is full. He shoves a few bottles of creamer into the front of his grey hoodie. A water bottle shoots out from an aisle and bounces off one of the cart’s wheels. 

“This is insane!” Will scoops it up and takes a swig. Creamer. He laughs and snatches up the one bottle left. It’s a shit brand too. “Lighter, cigs!” Will is relieved to find that the essentials are still there. He looks back at the fallen shelves and insanity of the scene. Food is kind of important. Will throws in any remaining foods without thinking. Canned beans. Bologna. Cheese sticks. Doritos. Yogurt. Ears of corn. He struggles to push the cart around as he pelts it with apples. It’s getting pretty full. Time to check out! He sprints through the doors striking the side of one as he goes.

The world outside is a furnace. Will steps back overwhelmed by the sensation of burning alive. It’s like hell on Earth. Will throws his sweaty shirt into the cart as he wheels it. The heat trapped inside the car is unbearable. He pops the trunk of the car and starts tossing things in hastily before he is noticed. The food is probably destroyed already. Time for round two. The store is almost completely cleared out. There’s not much left besides the ruined products on the ground. He walks past the frozen foods one last time disappointed with the lack of pizza left. 

“Ooh!” Will pauses his process of unconsciously loading dog food into the cart and grabs the remaining first aid items. One pack of gauze. Three boxes of Band-Aids. Some cheap ibuprofen. It’ll do. He grabs an abandoned bottle of women’s shampoo and other random sanitation products. He has to survive his own stench somehow. Will starts picking up boxes of cereal that have exploded on the ground. Anything helps at this point. He tries to recall some items on the grocery list back home but can’t. He needs coffee. NOW. 

Time to go.

He rolls the windows down and stomps on the gas. In this world, he is unstoppable. The faster he goes, the less the heat rips at his skin. Perfect conditions for a storm of adrenaline. Once in the driveway, he lays on the car horn for a solid minute. 

Johnny is furious. Before he can slug Will in the face, he is handed two scorching bottles of Jack Daniels. 

“It’s the apocalypse! Drink up!” Johnny drops one of the bottles in shock as it burns his hand. The car is stuffed with food. 

“What the hell?!” Tunny is at the door now too. Johnny is swaying with the remaining bottle in his hand. 

“It’s the apocalypse!” Will repeats swinging bags of bread. 

“Will I swear to God if this is some kind of j-” Tunny is pushed aside firmly with an unfamiliar aggression. He immediately rushes to the car and start helping bring stuff in and Johnny follows. Tunny grabs the disgustingly warm cheese sticks. 

“It’s a hundred degrees out here!” he complains. 

“Yeah, no shit sherlock. It’s global warming or somethin’.” Johnny is not in the mood for any of this. If this truly is the apocalypse, then they are off to a terrible start. Groceries are getting thrown into the house carelessly. 

“How’d you know, Will?” Tunny asks closing the trunk. 

“Dumb fucking luck. Imagine us sleeping in for the end of the world!” Johnny rushes back into the house recovering in the chill of the air conditioning. He glares at the strange set of items on the ground as he turns the thermostat down. Will drops an armful of massive soda bottles to help Tunny up the steps. 

“Soda? Seriously?!” 

“Well, what’d ya want?” 

“WATER! FUCKING WATER, WILL!” Tunny rushes into the bathroom and flips up the sink handle. Water gushes out freely. 

“Guys, we need tubs. Get any tub you can find!” Tunny starts barking orders. Johnny obeys without question and starts filling up Tupperware containers, buckets, and bowls with cold water. He runs upstairs and places a massive plastic bin in the bathtub. 

“How did you not get water?!” Tunny shakes his head disbelief and kicks a 2-liter soda at Will. 

“There wasn’t any left! Quit yellin’ at me!” Johnny rushes around pulling out more containers from the kitchen to be used. Good thinking, Tunny. He lifts an overflowing container out of the sink to replace it with an empty one. Tunny looks around at the food scattered on the floor. The sounds of running water echo throughout the house. He strides over to the TV and watches scene after scene on the news. 

EXTREME WEATHER. HISTORIC TEMPS ACROSS MIDWEST. INSIDE THE ISSUES. 

Will and Johnny continue to work and manage the containers being filled. 

“What’s the scoop?” Will asks. Tunny is silently glued to the screen. Johnny is running out of tubs to fill. This can’t be it. 

“Will! We need bigger containers. Check the basement!” Will hurries down and pulls out four massive storage tubs. He slides each tub across the floor to Johnny. 

“Ew! Wash them out first! He looks at Johnny in disgust. Johnny fakes soaking him with the container as he shakes it around. Will looks around wildly. 

“What are we missing? What are we missing? Oh, we should probably eat our frozen food first. Y’know, before the power goes out.” 

“Don’t say that.” Johnny groans. 

Will goes off to his room collecting basic supplies in a backpack. Flashlight, watch, shoes, clothing cigarettes, lighter, pocketknife… he feels like he’s forgotten something major but can’t place it. 

“Will! Come help me with the water!” Johnny is annoyed that he’s the only one doing work. 

“I am!” Will rushes off to replace a massive tub in the upstairs bathroom. 

“Tunny, what’s going on?” He’s been quiet for some time now. The house is starting to heat up despite the AC running as low as it can go. 

“What the fuck?!” Johnny throws his shirt aside and narrows his eyes at the stupidly low number on the thermostat screen. He punches it angrily and steps back instantly regretting what he’d just done. He hears water overflowing from the kitchen and goes to turn it off. Their water reservoir tubs have spread across the kitchen counter, table, and floor. Johnny puts smaller tubs in the fridge to cool down. In the very back, he spots an unopened water bottle. As he grabs it, Will barges in to store his creamer. 

“Hey, we need to figure out what to do.” Johnny says. Will stands on top of him taking in the chilly air from the fridge. He dodges Johnny’s attempt to shove him away. Will finds Tunny on the living room couch doubled over with his head resting on his fists. His eyes are glazed over. 

“What’s the game plan?” Will crouches down mimicking Tunny’s pose at eye level. “We might wanna block off doors and windows.” Will says thoughtfully. “Ya know, like they do in the movies.” Johnny enters the room and notices Tunny being unresponsive. 

“The tubs,” Johnny mutters.

“RIGHT! Ah, shit!” Will had neglected two tubs upstairs and he flies up the stairs to stop the water. Tunny is frozen in the same pose and Johnny struggles with how to approach him. He taps him lightly on the side of the arm. 

“Hey, we need a plan. Got ideas?” Tunny is still not responding. If this really is the end of the world, then they don’t have much time. Johnny is torn between walking away and yelling in his face. He watches as Will returns downstairs with a fresh t-shirt on. Tunny slowly relaxes and starts picking mindlessly at his arm. 

“If it gets to the point that we’re starving to death,” He starts. 

“That’s fucking morbid, Tunny.” Johnny is appalled. 

“Hey, if we need to run like hell, I’m not gonna make it anyway.” Tunny is strongest of the group, but this is a brutal truth. He shrugs and continues. “If we’re all starving to death, you guys can go ahead and eat me.” 

“Jesus!” Will impulsively laughs at the absurdity of this statement. 

“Hey, ya never know. It might come to that.” Tunny is still dead serious. 

“Mkaaay, that’s lovely. What else?” Johnny downs the rest of his water and crushes the plastic bottle against his leg. 

“I will do my best to protect you guys. We should stay here together as long as we can.” He pauses and resumes picking his arms. 

“Yeah like, no running off, nothing like that.” Will adds, and Tunny agrees with the idea. 

“For sure, for sure. Promise me that we’re gonna stick together no matter what happens.” Both Will and Johnny nod. “People are gonna raid this place and we better prepare for that. We’ll hide in the basement and I’ll guard the door. We should start moving our stuff down there. Food-” Johnny interrupts again. 

“Wait, no, no. We gotta hide upstairs so that we see them coming and have the high ground.” Tunny points and nods in agreement. 

“What happens when we run out of stuff?” Will asks. Tunny smiles grimly. 

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” 

“God, weren’t you listening? You eat him, remember?” Johnny jokes. Will bursts out laughing and catches himself. “Okay, stop! God, that’s so wrong!”


	4. Dumbfucks and Party Freaks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My favorite chapter. The guys are being dumb and reckless here so enjoy!  
> Also, St. Jimmy's a bitch.
> 
> Chapter 5 is kinda scatterbrained so I might not upload that. Who knows?

The dark clear sky provides no relief from the heat wave ripping through the neighborhood. The house near the end of the street has been without power for some time. Water tubs, food, and appliances have disappeared. Dust, grime, and and muddy footprints cover the floor. Taped to the foot of the stairs is a sign reading “WARNING: BODIES.” A substance that appears to be blood is smeared on the walls and steps. A single window on the main floor has been flung wide open and a shattered bottle of Jack Daniels rests right outside the front door. The gruesome darkness makes the place feel even more abandoned. 

“See? This place ain’t shit,” says a young hushed voice from outside. Another man smiles nervously in response. The window slides up even farther as the two sneak into the house. One of them shines a flashlight around quickly taking in the nature of the place. The blood is spotted near the top of the stairs. 

“Someone took these fuckers out already. Damn shame they beat us to it.” The other man cackles wickedly without remorse. 

“Shame.” The first repeats. An empty soda bottle is crushed loudly under his boot. “You knew them too, right? Buncha fuck-ups!” 

“Well I knew one of them. I think. Joe? John? ‘Zat right?” The first man begins to ramble looking down at the warning sign. 

“Ohhh Johnny. He owed me bigtime. Right before ‘e ran off-” 

BANG BANG! 

Tunny’s bullets rip through the air. The first man collapses as he is shot in the leg and thigh. He falls back away from the steps hollering. They both clamber out of the window swearing and screaming all the way. A lit flashlight remains innocently on the ground. Tunny winces as the shrieks replay in his mind and he heads back towards the hideout in Will’s room. 

"Dumbfucks," he mutters.

Will is curled up in a ball wedged between two water tubs shaken by the violence. 

“You got beef with someone, Johnny?” Tunny enters the room and sees he is missing from the bed. 

“I dunno where he went.” Will mutters. His eyes are shut. Tunny closes the door behind him and watching Will in concern. He comes around to Will and lends a hand to help him up. He doesn’t budge. He stares back at Tunny with tired eyes. 

“I’m sorry about the water. There wasn’t any left.” He whispers. 

“It’s fine, we have plenty.” 

“No, no, we really don’t.” Will’s voice goes unnaturally high. “We’re just sitting around like the world’s not ending. Like we’re… not gonna die.” Tunny watches him from the bed as though observing an animal out in a field. Will buries his head in his shirt and disappears into his knees. 

“We’re screwed and it’s all my fault.” Tunny silently listens to Will sobbing as his rant escalates. “You know me. I’m just the guy that fucks everything up. The food, the water, the car. Just…” He echoes Johnny’s insults. “I’m just an idiot.” He falls against one of the tubs still curled up in a ball. “What are we gonna do? Where are we gonna go? I’m not ready for this, I don’t wanna die!” Tunny gets up at this and heads over to Will’s closet. Will peeks out of his shirt like a turtle. His red eyes follow Tunny as he moves across the room. 

“Drink up,” Tunny hands Will a bottle of Miller High Life. “To the end of the world.” 

The door to Tunny’s room is locked. St. Jimmy mindlessly flicks a flashlight on and off from within the closet. His head throbs and the rhythmic clicking of the flashlight is making it worse. 

“Cut that out?!” Johnny hisses. St. Jimmy spams the flashlight rapidly and then throws it on the ground. It ricochets off one of Tunny’s boots and shines out from under the door into the rest of the bedroom. Johnny slams his head into the door trying to mute the pain of his massive migraine. “Shut up, shut up.” Johnny glares at St. Jimmy’s shadowy face. 

“I didn’t say nothin’!” 

“No, but you were thinkin’ it. You’re fucking horrible, you know that?” 

“That’s my middle name.” St. Jimmy smiles. 

“What, ‘horrible?’” 

“No, ‘fucking.’” St. Jimmy throws his head against the door too with a thunk. “Hey,” He jabs into Johnny’s shoulder with a sharp nail. “We haven’t caught up much. How you been?” 

“No, NO. I’m not doing this. Not now.” 

“Come aaaahhhn! Tell me a good story. Make me laugh. You gotta make me laugh.” Johnny launches himself up and escapes the heat trap of the closet. 

“Fuck off, Jimmy.” 

“That’s SAINT Jimmy to you!” St. Jimmy mimics Johnny’s less than enthusiastic flop onto Tunny’s bed. 

“Look,” St. Jimmy tries to reason. “We’re all outta shit, so now YOU gotta entertain ME.” He adjusts to sit cross-legged on the bed childishly. He slides his white knee-high boots off in courtesy. One of them catches on Tunny’s comforter and tears a small hole. Johnny is pressed face first into the bed. St. Jimmy watches him maliciously for a second swinging one of his boots around. They reek of death. He starts picking dirt off the bottom of one. “Last night was fantastic. Remember it much?” Johnny grins in defeat. 

“Yeah, yeah alright.” St. Jimmy laughs in triumph. 

“Ha! See? Ya DID miss me.” 

“Well… I missed that feeling for sure.” A boot suddenly crushes into his ribs. 

“OW! GEEZ! What the hell?!” Johnny clutches his side. 

“We need mooooooaaaarrr.” St. Jimmy nags. He sends the other boot right at Johnny’s crotch. Johnny blocks the blow with his bony arm just in time. “See, that’s your problem. We do it. We feel great. And then stuff like this happens.” Johnny rubs his wrist tenderly. “That’s how it works, Johnny! What’s the fun without the pain? The chase!” Johnny starts ripping apart the second boot that was thrown at him. St. Jimmy is unaffected by this. “We need more. You know it, I know it,” He says hungrily. A tangled black lace is thrown to the ground. St. Jimmy dispels his agitation with a loud overly dramatic sigh. 

“Right, but here’s the thing, Jimmy.” 

“SAINT-!” 

“We’re kind of in the middle of the apocalypse right now.” 

“Yeaaaah, in HERE!” St. Jimmy points to his brain. 

“Listen. We’ll find a way. Maybe not today, but-” 

“Yes, today!” 

“Someday. I promise.” 

St. Jimmy scowls. Johnny tries to remember the details of the night before. Was he outside at some point? 

“Hey, I was running in grass, right? Like a jungle of some sort?” 

“Oh, you were FAST man. The last time you were that fast you-” 

“Yeah, Okay,” Johnny does not want to be reminded of another embarrassing incident. 

“You couldn’t get out of your room and I had to help. You’re welcome.” Johnny is worried that he can’t recall much. “There was somebody else…” St. Jimmy sits contemplating as though working through simple math in his head. “Oh, what’s his name? Some guy had your book.” 

“Book?! I don’t read!” Johnny laughs. 

“Well, I don’t know, maybe you do!” St. Jimmy and Johnny both freeze. 

“Wait.” They both say in unison. 

They both leap off the bed and lift the window open. St. Jimmy snatches the flashlight off the ground and shines it into the grass. The brown book sits a foot away from an Adirondack chair. St. Jimmy starts to leap out the window. 

“No, we’re not doing that.” Johnny yanks him back inside. They both still watch it. The same book. Seemingly untouched. “Who had it, Jimmy?” 

“You called him Tun-” Johnny storms off with St. Jimmy right behind him.   
Johnny pushes the door open angrily. 

“Okay, no bullshit.” A variety of battery-powered lights are scattered around Will’s room. 

“Johnnnaaay!” Tunny raises his arms in celebration. Will is sitting fully clothed submerged in one of the water tubs. He kicks his legs out. 

“They’re partying without you?!” St. Jimmy’s eyes widen. Johnny is equally surprised. He forgets about the journal entirely. 

“You fuckin’ serious?” He grabs a bottle of beer from the closet. The filthy carpet is soaked with cold water and Johnny feels like he’s walking on a sponge. “That’s our drinking water!” Johnny starts yanking Will out of the tub then stops realizing he’s only letting out more water. 

“AY, WATCH IT. I’M THE BEST DAMN MERMAID THERE IS.” Johnny looks back at Tunny who is on Will’s bed. He is clearly less drunk than Will but still euphoric. He slowly rests his head against the wall and breathes slowly as though in some imaginary hot tub. It’s rare to see him this relaxed. Johnny closes the door of the room for safety and throws remaining caution to the wind. St. Jimmy watches him down a full bottle with a hurt expression. He sits in the corner quietly not taking his eyes off Johnny. One of the lights begins flickering as it runs out of power. All three guys start yelling obnoxiously. 

“Hey, when wuzzat one time you saw a ghost?” Johnny asks Tunny. 

“Not me. That shit’s not real.” 

“Oh, you better believe it is!” Will shakes a finger at Tunny’s foolishness and squirms around in the tub trying to escape. He rises up dramatically sopping wet and begins his tale. 

“It was a dark and stormy night-” 

“Boooo!” Tunny yells. 

“Hey, shut the FUCK up!” Will screams. 

“Very original, Will.” Johnny burps loudly and rolls his eyes. 

“ANYWAY. It was a-” 

Tunny burps even louder completely drowning him out. Will yanks Tunny off the bed by his good leg catching him off guard completely. The entire floor shakes as Tunny slams hard against the ground. Johnny is disappointed as the story ends at that. Will screams and pounces onto Tunny. 

"YEAH! GET HIM WILL!” Johnny eggs him on knowing he doesn’t stand a chance. They both wrestle around soaking wet and knocking into walls. Tunny grabs a handful of Will’s long hair and forces him to the floor. 

“Aaaagh! No, that’s cheating! That’s-” Tunny is able to push himself away defensively. They both are sprawled out on the ground groaning. 

“We’re too fucked up for this.” Will wheezes. 

“Ah, not enough.” Tunny replies. 

“I… am a mermaid.” Will says with incredible determination. 

“A merMAN,” Tunny corrects him. 

“That doesn’t sound right though!” 

As they argue, Johnny catches St. Jimmy’s thin white form is still huddled in the corner. He is tensed up like a corpse. 

“What the hell was that?!” Johnny yells at St. Jimmy who is propped up against the hallway wall. 

“You act like this is new.” St. Jimmy says faintly. He sinks farther down the wall and exhales. 

“Fuck off, I just need drugs.” 

“Don’t you know who I am?! I am your power. Your life.” Johnny marches away retreating into Tunny’s room. St. Jimmy cries out with his remaining energy. 

"Your FIGHT!!” 

The door slams. The last thing Johnny needs is this bullshit. He feels as weak and powerless as the figure outside. He blocks St. Jimmy out of his mind and begins to drift off laying facedown. 

“No, we’re not doing that.” St. Jimmy digs his fingers into Johnny’s back like several knives. 

“Please, just lemme sleep. We’ll get something, just… gimme a few days.” He pleads into his pillow. 

“Don’t give me that bullshit. I know what you’re like.” Johnny is smacked in the head with a heavy object. “And your little buddy does too, don’t he?” St. Jimmy brandishes Johnny’s journal threateningly. “This, this is your life. Look.” St. Jimmy opens the book. 

“He needs me,” Johnny hears a page tearing slowly. 

“He needs me lots.” Another page is ripped away. 

“He needs me, he needs me LOTS!” St. Jimmy violently tears large sections of pages out of the book. 

Johnny makes a grab for the book but St. Jimmy pushes him away and slams the book down. Johnny throws himself on the ground scrambling to recover his crumpled mess of vulnerable statements. A voice hisses in his ear. 

“Drugs. Tomorrow. Last chance.”


End file.
